A silent Gunshot
by Nightwatcher's Dark Angel
Summary: You guys wanted more of Gunshot, here it is. Rated for violence and lingo.
1. Chapter 1

All right, you guys wanted more for Gunshot, here it is. Well, the makings of it any how. Heh, busy as all crud with all my school work so this'll take a while so be patient (Please?). I appreciate all of your comments, they help tremendously!

-I haven't a total clue where I am going to take this one so bare with me!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the TMNT characters.

Wisp of a Nightmare

"_What the hell are you trying to prove Raph? We're nearly twenty and you're still running around like some god damned crazed adrenalin junky hell bent on blowing your self to oblivion in one of your crazy ass stunts_." _Leonardo shook his head. The eldest stood in the doorway with arms loosely crossed and eyes full of piss fire and worry, all of which were uncovered by the absence of blue. There was nothing else that could describe the feeling that crawled up the back of his throat; he was truly disgusted with his brother. Raphael knew this, he felt it, and yet he had the balls to look his eldest brother in the eyes. His arm was outstretched allowing his younger brother to examine the wounds that adorned his entire left arm. _

"_Raph," for a brief moment his eyes wavered, averted to another place, any place but those burning eyes, but then he quickly looked back, finding that those same eyes weren't looking at him but another place, seemingly only known to his brother. _

"_Raph, have you even heard a word I said?" There was silence followed by a hiss with a trickle of blood down the side of his brother's lip. Donny had tightened the bandage that he was wrapping around Raph's upper arm. The second eldest looked up at his brother in the door way._

"_Ya, Leo, I heard." It was odd hearing his voice so melancholy. Leo shook his head once more and trudged out of the infirmary. It was quite with out him there; there were no electrical hums, no Mikey bouncing off the walls, there was no sound of the tv or video games. There was just the sound of Don moving about to get another wrap for his arms. _

"_He's just worried about you. After Splinter died . . . We just don't want to have to burry another so soon . . ." His voice was soft, compassionate. Raph turned to look at his younger brother. He knew that Leo just worried but it still bugged the hell out of him every time he came home with a little cut or bump that his brother would flip. Sigh . . ._

"_What happened?" Raph glanced away. _

"_The bike decided to do a summersault and it wanted to take me for a ride." The turtle in red had to grin just a bit at that. Don stopped wrapping is brother's arm and raised an eye ridge._

"_Pardon?" _

"_I was takin' a corner an' some punk ass thought it would be funny to chuck whatever it was at my bike. Well it ended up getting' caught in between the guard of the front tier and the piece of the medal that holds it there. The tire stopped movin' when I was getting' back up to speed. I got lucky enough that I saw something flyin' and I was able to wrench the bike to one side but unfortunately . . ."_

"_But unfortunately for you, you got your arm caught under the bike as it did its thing and you tore it up. But luckily you weren't going too fast that you didn't sever the arm. Nice. Hold this." Letting go of the wrap for his brother to place his hand over to hold it in place, Don rolled his chair over to the counter to get some surgical tape. "You're still using the nightwatcher's bike?"_

"_Ya, I'll take it out every once and a while just at keep her runnin' is all." Tapping the bandage in place, Don had to smile at that. Raph always loved his bikes, taking care if them more than he did himself. _

"_You should remodel that bike a little. The way you use them, it would be better off without that whole front section of the bike and we could just re-designed it so that objects can't get caught in it again." Raph shook his head._

_Standing, Raph flexed his arm to test his new bindings. "Na, it'll be fine. The bike was given to me that way an' I plan on keeping it like that." _

_Don was skeptical. "All right Raph, it's your bike but promise me that you'll wear a extra protection next time." _

"_Ya, sure Donny, ya got it . . ."_

"_Promise me Raph." Don stood, unwilling to let his brother's good arm go. His eyes were pleading, innocent. Raph could only sigh._

"_Sure Don, I'll do that for ya. I promise." They searched each other for a moment then he departed, leaving his little brother behind, wondering._

If only he could take it all back, take back everything that he had ever said to his brothers. To his father . . .He just wanted to make everything all right again. He should have listened to Donny. Should have listened to Leo. Hell, should have listened to Mikey but nothing could change that now. He was lying there in god knows where, slowly dieing in his own pool of blood. Everything was fading in and out. He couldn't remember much of what happened but all he knew was that he was shot and no one knew he was alive.

The Nightwatcher was lying on his stomach, bleeding from an open chest wound caused by a single bullet piercing a faulty chest plate. His helmet had fallen off some time a go leaving his head hanging open in the cool night's air, his right cheek soaking in sticky crimson liquid. Breathing began to come more shallowed, staggering as the realization came to him.

Here he was, probably going to drown in his own blood, and yet he seemed so calm. So empty. He had a bullet wound in his chest and yet there was no pain. There was nothing at all. He felt strangely hollow where the wound was but there was nothing else. He was determined not to die there, in the dark and abandoned by all reality. He was left with sorrow and regret, but there was no pain.

_This can't be th' end . . . _He blinked once, salten tears escaped fading eyes, falling between scars and fresh gashes that adorned his face from years of battle.

_I wont die here, not now . . . _A stubborn will could only hold out for so long until the body decides to give out, unwilling to comply. A gasp; then another. His breathing was labored more so than ever. Streaks of red flashed through his vision, not of anger, not this time. Pain . . .

_Got to get up . . . _There was no one coming. That was the plain truth of the matter. It was a done deal, his life was over.

_Get up! _He blinked once. He wanted badly to get up and go home. He wanted badly to just feel something.

_Don't move . . . _He just wanted his brothers to know he was alive but there was this voice in the back of his mind, so small that he almost missed it, screaming at him to stay put. He was becoming more weak, more lethargic. Winter was settling out side the abandoned house and the chill was starting to creep its way in between the armor and padding of his outfit.

Hot tears stung his open wounds as the thought of his brothers came to him. He was no longer in control of himself. No longer in control of his life. Time was running out and there was nothing he could do about it.


	2. Chapter 2

Alright, I know it's been way over due for an update. I've been running into writers block as well as working and doing classes for my zoo program. So here is the next chapter, setting up events to follow. Hopefully the next chapter will be up before Christmas and until then, give me your thoughts and pointers!!!

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_There are things in our life that we regret. Some of those things we tend regret more than others. Then there are some that we just want to flat out forget about but sometimes those things aren't easily forgotten. _

_Life has been rough on all of us since master Splinter died over the summer. It cut deep, deeper than any one of us thought. We thought we were ready; he was getting old, we all knew it. It was all just a matter of time. Then it happened . . ._

_I guess we fooled ourselves in to thinking that dear old dad would be around and protect us forever. That was a lie. The sheet came out from underneath us one night when Mike, Leo, and I were out grabbing some grub. Don stayed behind to monitor sensei considering he hasn't been well shortly after the Max Winters escapade. That was over two years a go._

_Anyways, the three of us were out and on our way back from April and Casey's when Leo gets this call. I'm telling ya, I never seen that guy so struck before. Not even the time the Shredder ran him through with his own sward did he look like that. I knew what it was. It couldn't be anything else but that. My instincts were kicking in but I didn't want to believe . . .Dad was dieing and we weren't there. _

_Leo shoved the phone in his belt and took off. Mike and I shared a sideways glance before chasing after him. Block after block we ran, our lungs burning like fire. I considered it a blessing, __running faster __made it hurt all the more and with the burning came the release of my thoughts, it took my mind away from the stabbing pain that clutched at my heart. We were running against borrowed time and all of three of us knew. _

_That night it didn't seem like we ran fast enough. Time seemed to slip by in slow increments, taunting us with the screams of victims of murderous criminals. Non of us cared, not that night. Those very screams still echo in my sleep to this day but that night was our night, our turn to become the victim, to feel pain of the loss of a loved one. _

_We came running in to the lair, so fast, all three of us, that we broke the door clean off its hinges (boy Donny was pissed) and tumbled on top of one another. Leo didn't miss a beat. With one shove, Mike and I were sent sprawling on the rug. I stood up after a moment, taking in the full seen. Donny looked older, much older that his years and it wasn't unit I heard the rustling behind me that I noticed that both Leo and Mile were gone. They had already disappeared in to Splinter's room by the time I moved to sit with Don. It was obvious; we were too late. Dad was dead and we didn't even get to say good buy. _

_Don's face was placid, warn from many of sleepless nights but calm all the same. I didn't expect anything less from him, he was a scientist after all but I knew he hurt like the rest of us. We could hear Mike's muffled sobs from the sofa, no doubt he had berried his face in Leo's shoulder as the fearless leader himself silently let his pain go. _

_I couldn't bring myself to go in there; I wanted to remember Splinter the way he was, not the Splinter that has been withering away in front of us over the past two years. I couldn't deal with it, not in front of them so I took off, letting the cold night air to hit my face and allow the burning to once again take away the emptiness that ate away at my heart. _

Sigh . . .

_That was over four months ago . . ._

"Raphael?" The voice was soft, muffled by door. It sounded so small and fragile, if that was at all possible. To the turtle in question, it seemed like there could be no piece around the lair.

There was some shuffling of paper followed by soft rhythmic thump with each step as the occupant made his way to the door. The door opened a crack, allowing the face of her friend to be bathed in the bright yellow hallway light.

"April? 'Sup?" Raphael squinted as light seeped in to the dark room. It was hard for him to get use to the new image of his friend; there she stood bathed in glowing luminescence with here red hair shimmering like spring's fresh apples all the while wearing a jersey, that probably could fit himself, that hid her swollen abdomen non to well. April was defiantly pregnant.

The two stood there for an awkward moment looking at one another, one with sullen and content in his eye and the other with pity and heartache. "Mike has dinner ready on the table if your hungry." She stumbled for the words.

Eyes drifted to the side and weight was adjusted on the crutch the large turtle held under his arm. A soft sigh escaped his lips as the turtle shook his head. "I aint all to hungry April. Just tell Mike to stick some leftovers in the fridge." With that the large turtle turned back to the darkness he came. A small hand took hold of the door, determined not to give in to the stubborn terrapin. With in two strides April O'Neal was standing inside his room, door closed behind her.

"Raphael, I'm so sorry what Casey did. I don't know . . ." A clatter of a crutch. The touch of a single hand. So gentle, so soft against her cheek despite the thick calluses from years of combat. Warmth drew nearer to her body causing her unborn to stir. There was a sigh followed abruptly by a cool weight that pressed softly on the top of her head. Smooth steady breathing mad her hair dance near her ear, the smell of his breath reminding her of stale summer air.

The weight was lifted as suddenly as it was placed there and a hand came down cupping her chin, drawing it up ever so slightly so that soft green eyes met dark chocolate. Her eyes were wide and uncertain, threatening to pool over.

"April . . ." Tears began to trickle. It was too much.

"He almost killed you Raph! He's your best friend and he almost KILLED you!" So many things were running through her mind all at once. Her heart ached, torn between the man she loves and the boys she called family. Her gaze met the floor.

"We . . . We almost lost you . . ." Her whole face was engulfed in his hands, tears spilling over on to leathery skin with a chocked sob beckoning to escape. His face drew near to hers, eyes narrowing.

"Don't ever doubt why you married him. It aint is his fault for what happened April. Remember that." With that he let go, stepping back to pick up the crutch. She was in disbelief.

"Not his fault?" She followed him to where he took up his seat at the cramped desk at the back of his room. She placed a hand on his shoulder, turning him in his seat. "What the hell do you mean it's not his fault? It seams to me that he was the one who pushed you off the roof. He even admitted to it!"

"April, he was drunk." Blunt and to the point. He turned his seat back around, picked up his pen, and he began to write again. Frowning, she moved to the side of the small table.

"Drunk? You think it's an excuse? You think being drunk abolishes him for nearly killing you?"

"I didn't say that did I?" The large turtle continued to write in his notebook, not bothering to look up.

"Then what are you trying to say Raphael? What, because I would really like to know!" It was clear that she was loosing her patience with him. The guilt she felt from her husband now absolved in to anger. This time he turned his head, raising a brow.

"Casey and I are a lot a like you know." With that he went back to writing. April was pissed off.

"You and Casey are virtually identical Raphael. Everyone here knows that. What is your point?" Turning the page in his book, he continued to write.

"We tend to think a like." Clearly flustered, April tilted the small desk light to his face. Until now she could not make out the extra added futures of her friend. The room was dimly lit and till now she could see why it was so.

That night, when the guys came over for dinner, Raphael left to go find Casey. He wasn't gone all to long before they heard some noise coming from the roof. They just passed it off as another quarrel between the two friends but when a clearly drunken, panic stricken Casey Jones came in a minute later, without a pissed off Raphael, there was something definitely wrong. Casey mentioned something about a fight and the roof before dashing for the bathroom and proceeding to vomit all over the floor. The guys left in a huff and when Mike came back in side a few seconds later, she knew then. Something horrible had happen.

The guys wouldn't allow her to come see what happened to Raph. They didn't want her to come back with them and help. Donatello mentioned something about her not needing added stress on top of being pregnant and having a drunken Casey to deal with.

She could see why now. Deep gashes adorned his face, some she knew well, then there were others that were foreign. Around his neck still lied a thin layer of wrapping where it protected the lacerated flesh from a neck brace he wore a week previous. Her eyes drifted down to the left arm where there was another deep gash just below the shoulder. That to was also covered. Then there was his broken right leg . . .

The light disappeared. Raphael's hand covered and moved the blinding light that was so rudely interrupted his writing. He stood, using the edge of the table to brace his weight.

"April, you and Casey are married. You're pregnant and that means he's going to be a father. That puts a lot of pressure on a guy, especially some one like Casey. When someone like him fails to protect his wife and unborn child, he's going to take it out on himself." He looked at her making sure she was getting it.

"Look, I went up there that night to straighten things out, to knock some cense in to that dumb ass. He can't be parading around and thinking he can be a vigilante any more. He has a responsibility and dieing right now isn't part of it. He needed to know that he's going to have a kid soon and that the kid needs a dad in its' life." It took the last of his strength to stand there. Drained and wearier, he slumped back in to his seat, eyes closed.

April sat down at the edge of the bed, mind racing. Raphael, the hot head, talking cense in to Casey? She looked at her trembling hands in disbelief. Looking back up, Raph was back to his writing. "He sobered up."

Raph turned in his seat. "At least I did one thing right." There was a smirk there, hidden behind the shadows.

"Raph . . ." He raised his hand in protest.

"Look, Casey is retired for the time being and there is no way in hell am I going to go out with that bonehead for a night of skull bashing. No way. So don't worry Ap. I got ya covered." With that, he turned back around to face his desk. He had little more than two seconds of privacy before he was enveloped in an April squeeze.

"Thank you so much Raphael . . ." There were hot tears trickling down the side of his neck. It was too much for him. Between April choking him and the pain flaring up in his leg from the awkward position, he couldn't take it. Making a few more choked gargles, April let go.

"Raph! I'm so sorry!" She took a step back to give him space.

"Its . . . Its ok April. Heh." Coughing twice Raphael stood taking up his crutch. "How about dinner?"


End file.
